Primal Bond
by RAWRcarrie
Summary: AU! On the night Dumbledore is murdered Hermione finds herself somewhere she could've never imagined with a person she would never have wanted. Is this destiny or a sick game played by a sicker werewolf?(triggerwarning!)
1. Chapter 1

AN:

I came across a Hermione Granger/Fenrir Greyback fic and it was... interesting to say the least, I don't know why I love to read about Hermione being with the darker misunderstood characters but I do and Fenrir is perfect! There isn't a whole lot of this pairing out there so I'm gonna give it a try.

This will be an AU obviously, starting while Harry and Dumbledore are atop the astronomy tower and the rest of the gang are battling death eaters. In this AU instead of attacking Harry and getting stunned Fenrir Greyback grabs Hermione and disappears into the forest with her. My muse for this story came from LameBicycle98 her story Hunted made me want more, it's relatively short a quick but good read.

Please read and review; I'd love to hear every and anyone's opinions and ideas.

(IMPORTANTE!)Fenrir will be slightly nicer as the story progresses but major warnings in the beginning. I will not describe any nonconsensual lewd acts in detail. As I am against underage sex acts I would like to add that Hermione's birthday is September 19th so in this story at least please assume that Hermione turned 12 a few weeks into her first year and as such she would've 17 at the beginning of the year this story is taking place. 17 is legal in their world but as she used the time turner so much in third year we shall say she 18 or at least vey near to 18.

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Chapter 1. Felix Felicis

"Stupefy!" screamed Hermione, aiming her wand at a lumpy death eater whose sex she couldn't quite determine.

Pausing just long enough to ensure the spell hit her target she pressed on, throwing curses whenever she spotted an opening between her friends and the death eaters Malfoy had somehow managed to get in the castle. Her determination to get outside was amplified when she chanced a quick look at her wrist.

Harry and Dumbledore had been gone for nearly an hour! They had to return, there were too many death eaters in the school all of the teachers were fighting. Thank goodness the Order was already there or the teachers would've been taken out already. If Dumbledore didn't return soon lives could be lost.

The Felix Filicis still coursing through her veins dictated she should be on the grounds waiting for someone. The potion merely nudged her in the right direction it didn't tell her much, so logically she assumed she was waiting for Harry to return with Dumbledore.

Reaching the appropriate spot with Felix's help she stopped and observed her surroundings. Very much alone she stood a few yards from the edge of the Forbidden Forest the castle loomed on the other side of her, no sign of the battle within evident from her vantage point.

Her eyes traveled upward toward the astronomy tower, to her shock and horror the dark mark shone menacingly above Hogwarts tallest tower. Who could've died? Hermione's heart clenched tightly in her chest as she tried not to picture Ron, or Ginny, or Professor McGonagall dead. The fading potion insisted this is where she needed to be. She felt rooted to the spot, just waiting and hoping that Dumbledore would arrive soon.

Within two minutes she heard the sound of broomsticks swooping through the air. It took her awhile to spot them, the sky was dark but she made out the two black figures hunched their broomsticks directly above her.

"Harry! Professor!" she screamed into the air.

It was useless they were moving too fast streaking towards the astronomy tower. She watched them disappear into the tower still glued to the spot waiting.

After an eternity she saw a flash of green light through the top of tower, grief overtook her. Somehow Hermione knew that the small figure that she watched fall was the Headmaster. Dumbledore was dead.

A sense of hopelessness sank over her, her heart cried for the crazy old genius. She cried for the Order without his leadership they would surely crumble. Harry, he had seen it. Another death to be forever imprinted in his young mind. Hermione's grief extended to Professor Snape even, the only man on the light side who trusted him was gone.

Time lost it's meaning as she realized how very permanent death was. Harry wasn't ready for this. Yes, they knew their mission but Harry wasn't ready for the position Dumbledore had been grooming him for. He was still a kid, they hadn't finished school yet and Hermione wasn't nearly as prepared as she should be.

Anything could happen the Ministry was probably already taken over. They could start rounding up halfbloods and muggleborns within days with Dumbledore gone.

A light flashed through grounds the as the battle suddenly erupted outside. Hermione pulled her wand out, she was too far away to tell who was who, but thankfully there were no bright green flashes just reds and blues. The fight proceeded away from her most of the people running towards the front gate.

Wand at the ready she watched as black figures made it to the gate and stopped suddenly. One figure kept attempting to curse a billowing figure only to be blocked each time. Her heart pounded in anticipation whatever she was waiting for was about to happen.

Paranoid brown eyes darted back and forth ready to curse anything that threatened her. A large figure appeared out of the shadows of the castle it was running straight at her. Hermione's first instinct was to stun the figure but the potion, somehow still in effect, urged her to abstain. This was who she was waiting for.

The figure was close enough for her to see he wore no mask, her heart thudded in her chest as it drew closer yet running faster than should be possible. When she recognized the figure she froze completely. Greyback was barreling towards her and she was stuck. Hermione's entire body felt numb. Wand hanging at her side she let him approach her, he stopped a few feet away from away and began to approach her slowly.

"You're making this too easy female. Shouldn't you run or something? Or do you not recognize the wolf that approaches you?" he taunted. "They didn't allow me to shed any blood tonight, and here you are just waiting to be my snack."

He was close enough to see her completely. Hermione remained frozen as he looked her up and down apprasingly.

"Kinda small for a snack but you've got fat in the right places at least, you'll be nice and tender won't..." he stopped short when he looked her in the eyes.

Hermione's eyes were wide open, when the wolf met her eyes she forgot the threat he imposed, her eyes glazed over and she felt her pupils dilate fully watching the shock on the werewolves face as his eyes locked onto hers and dilated fully as well.

Fenrir Greyback had been hoping this moment wouldn't come for the last decade but it had. He had no control over it. Reaching slowly to touch her face he grabbed her and claimed her lips, biting softly at the corner of her mouth and licking her blood with his long tongue slowly, savoring the sweet taste. Not even aware of what he was doing the wolf followed his instinct and bit the corner of his own lip gathering his own blood and lathing it into the girls willing lips.

The moon shone down on the ritual strengthening the soul deep bond the two had always been destined to share. Hermione sighed contented the Felix Felicis assuring her that this was meant to be. When the initial bonding was complete the young witch fainted. Such old power had that effect on humans. Fenrir didn't know what to do so he gathered her small form into his arms and ran as fast he could into the forest.

Once he was well outside of the wards he apparated himself and his mate home.

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Groggily Hermione opened her eyes; for all she knew it could've been hours or days her body felt sore. From what she could feel she was on the ground, or some kind of hairy blanket. It was pitch black wherever she was she could see nothing. Her heart thudded in her chest, she could smell dirt and rock but not the forest. Where was she? Sitting up in a panic Hermione realized how sore she was.

Hermione's robes were still on her but she realized to her horror the rest of her clothes were gone. There was a queer soreness in her center she had never felt before, reaching a trembling hand down she felt the private area between her legs.

Shaking fingers were met by an unfamiliar slickness, she had felt her own juices before of course. She wasn't a complete prude but these weren't her secretions. With a wince Hermione reached her very center it was tender and raw. Pulling her hand out of her sore lips she felt a sob start.

Her chest heaved in anguish, her virginity was gone and she didn't even know what had happened or where she was.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer, applicable to all chapters; I do not own any of the characters but those you do not recognize, nor am I making any money off the publishing of this story. JK Rowling owns it all and I thank her for allowing us to play with her characters.

AN: Woo-Hoo! One review and lots of follows, thanks y'all! Hope you're enjoying, I'll try to post regularly.

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Chapter 2. The Darkness

Hermione Granger sobbed desolutely, not noticing when her eyes finally acclimated to the darkness. Dumbledore, the greatest wizard she had ever known, was dead. For all she knew Harry could be dead as well, they all could.

Having already known the acts Voldemort and his henchmen were capable of didn't lesson the shock. In troth it was lucky they had made it this long without massive casualties. Cedric and Sirius were the only two tragedies, with Dumbledore gone there would be countless more. Voldemort had nothing left to fear. Scrimgeour was a better minister than Fudge had ever been but Hermione doubted his chances of survival.

What of her chances of survival? She wondered grimly looking around. It appeared she was in a cave it was still dark but she could see enough. Hermione rose to her feet no matter what had happened she had to try to survive.

Based on the small amount of information she knew of Greyback she should be dead already. Somehow, he had refrained from eating her. It was likely she was to be used as a toy until she succumbed to his violent ministrations. Her heart clenched in a tight fist at the idea of being used until she died. She was alone at the moment, her stomach rolled into a knot when she realized the unlikeliness that she was truly alone.

A war prisoner, that's what she was now. There were likely wolves waiting to kill her should she attempt escape. Why didn't she attack Greyback? That Felix Felicis must've been past date, she hadn't even thought to check the bottle for an expiration date before she finished it off. What of Ginny and Ron? Did their evening end as disastrously as hers? Or worse?

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Eyes dry, Hermione had cried every tear she had in her and still she heaved. It was unfair she couldn't allow herself to die like this. That beast would never touch her again. With another useless feel around the dark floor for her missing wand she stood and felt around the walls with purpose.

Finally she felt what she was looking for some more of the hairy blankets she realized after closer inspection were animal pelts. It was time to face who or whatever was waiting for her beyond the small cave she awoke in. The best Hermione could allow herself to hope for was a quick death.

Swallowing her fears along with great gulp of air Hermione brushed aside the pelt that covered the exit and stepped through prepared for whatever gruesome sight awaited her.

"I told you she'd come out on her own if we gave her some time Dahlia." a light haired women said to a dark women.

Hermione froze, of all the things she could've imagined running into upon exiting her cell this was the last thing she expected. Three women sat in the soft firelight that lit the larger cave the dark haired one, Dahlia, the light haired women who had spoken and a young women of Spanish decent slept near them. All three women had two to four babies either eating from their bare breasts or cuddled about their legs in a squirming mass.

"This is Dahlia dear, and my name is Josephine, the sleeping girl is Angelica. I promise we won't hurt you. What is your name child?" asked the light haired women.

"Her...Hermione ma'am." stuttered the terrified witch.

"Don't call me ma'am dearie, I might not be your age but I insist you call me Jo or Josephine. We should be familiar with one another as we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

"I'm sorry Josephine but I don't intend on staying here. Either kill me or allow me to leave." Hermione eyed the two witches daring them to do something.

"As much as we would love to allow you to leave I'm afraid we are unable. We are under strict orders from the Alpha to keep you here and to keep you safe." spoke up Dahlia in a soft understanding voice.

"We know how confused you must feel dearie. The way all of this went down was... less than ideal."

"All of what? The kidnap or the rape! Neither was ideal for me! You can't make me stay here, just kill me!" screamed Hermione, immediately regretting her loudness as all the babies began to wail simultaneously and the slumbering mother was awoken.

"Shite, I'm so sorry! You're not the one who did this to me. I didn't mean to frighten the babies." Hermione whispered forlornly.

Hermione had always hated the sound of crying babies, hated to imagine anything so innocent and perfect unhappy in anyway. She loved children, that was one of the main reasons she had been considering Ron as her future husband, she wanted to have at least four kids and she figured Ron wanted at least four maybe more.

Not that he would want her now that that she was used.

Sliding down the cave wall behind her she tried to conceal her surprise as the women partially transformed into wolves to be able to nurse the many hungry babies. Once the initial shock at the extra breasts wore off Hermione found herself becoming surprisingly calm and relaxed amongst the sounds of nursing babies and cooing mothers.

"I didn't realize that werewolves could transform partially like that, I've only ever known one. I don't think he can partially transform." stated Hermione softly.

"Alpha told us that Remus taught at your school a few years ago. We were so proud of him we celebrated for an entire week! He was such a smart child it broke our hearts when he left but we knew he had to do what was right for him. It has been centuries since a werewolf held such a publicly revered job, I know it didn't last long but it was still a major achievement." Jo said smiling softly at her now sleeping babies.

"Is Greyback the Alpha you keep talking about? How do you know Professor Lupin?" asked Hermione eager to learn as much as she could from these kind women.

"Remus lived here with us most of his life. He never forgave Alpha, he hasn't been back since he became a legal adult." Dahlia said sadly.

"To answer your question yes the Alpha is Fenrir Greyback." added Jo.

"Where is he? Why am I left with you instead of being tortured by Voldemort and his death eaters?" stammered Hermione fear washing over her anew.

She was becoming far too comfortable with these women, it was important for Hermione to stay focused if she wanted live. Remus knew where she was, he just didn't know she was there.

"What do you remember before waking up dearie? He didn't tell us anything except we should make sure you were safe and comfortable." Jo asked several moments later rather than answer the question.

"It's all a bit hazy, my friend Harry warned us something was going to happen he gave us a Felix Felicis potion. Harry left and Ron and I prepared for a fight. Death eaters in the school, I was fighting but the potion urged me to leave the fight and wait by the forest. Then..." she paused not ready to speak aloud of the death that had occured.

"Then he showed up, the Alpha. He was taunting me but I was frozen to the spot when he got close something happened, he stopped taunting me. Our eyes met and something strange happened, he touched my face and bit my lip." Hermione stopped talking abruptly as she remembered what happened.

"Is that all dearie?" Jo inquired.

"No, he kissed me." whispered the forlorn Gryffindor, "After that I fainted."

"And then woke up here?" asked Dahlia.

"Yes"

"What do you know of werewolves dearie?" asked Jo.

"I thought I knew something, but I've never read about werewolves living in packs, or partially transforming. All I really know is that you change during the full moon every month."

"Most males cannot partially transform, women can, another miracle that comes with childbirth. There are exceptions of course, Alpha has taught himself, his beta and several other men from our pack to transform at will. There are packs all over the world. This is the largest in Scotland."

"We're in Scotland still? Don't tell me we're in the Forbidden Forest somewhere." hope bloomed slightly in Hermione's chest.

"We're in Scotland yes, but I'm sorry dearie we're not anywhere near Hogwarts."

"Of course not. Can you tell me where we are? It's not like I can tell anyone to come save me."

"I don't suppose it would hurt. We live on protected lands Hermione. These caves are part of a five-thousand acre dragon reserve. It's not really part of Scotland, officially this place doesn't exist, it isn't illustrated on any map." Dahlia responded.

"Dragons?" whimpered Hermione, with a clear image in her mind of the terrifying Hungarian Horntail Harry had tricked in fourth year.

"We 'ave an understanding with zem." Angelica spoke up for the first time.

"Yes, they leave us alone so long as we don't eat all of the wild game. Dragons are fiercely intelligent creatures. If you gain their trust they are unbelievable allies." added Josephine.

Hermione had her doubts but didn't care to speak them, she was far too appreciative of these women's kindness and willingness to answer her questions. A dragon reserve, she had read of them. There wasn't a whole lot of information on the subject available but she knew they existed and that they were only subjugated to their own laws.

Another spark of hope erupted inside her, Charlie! He might know where she was as well. Unfortunately like Professor Lupin he had no way of knowing she was there. Even if they somehow figured out who had taken her they'd assume she was dead given Greyback's violent nature.

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"Dumbledore might know something that'd work, though," Ron said. "Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can't leave him in this state"

"Ron, Dumbledores dead," said Ginny.

"No!" Lupin looked wildly from Ginny to Harry, as though hoping the latter might contradict her.

When Harry did not, Lupin collapsed into a chair beside Bill's bed, his hands over his face. Harry had never seen Lupin lose control before; he felt as though he was intruding upon something private, indecent. He turned away and caught Ron's eye instead, exchanging in silence a look that confirmed what Ginny had said.

"How did he die?" whispered Tonks. "How did it happen?"

"Snape killed him," said Harry. "I was there, I saw it. We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was. . . . Dumbledore was ill, he was weak, but I think he realized it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He immobilized me, I couldn't do anything, I was under the Invisibility Cloak - and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him more Death Eaters arrived - and then Snape - and Snape did it. The Avada Kedavra." Harry couldn't go on.

Madam Pomfrey burst into tears. Nobody paid her any attention except Ginny, who whispered,

"Shh! Listen!"

Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing in a way Harry had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. And Harry felt, as he had felt about phoenix song before, that the music was inside him, not without: It was his own grief turned magically to song that echoed across the grounds and through the castle windows.

How long they all stood there, listening, he did not know nor why it seemed to ease their pain a little to listen to the sound of their mourning, but it felt like a long time later that the hospital door opened again and Professor McGonagall entered the ward. Like all the rest, she bore marks of the recent battle: There were grazes on her face and her robes were ripped.

"Molly and Arthur are on their way," she said, and the spell of the music was broken.

Everyone roused themselves as though coming out of trances, turning again to look at Bill, or else to rub their own eyes and shake their heads.

"Harry, what happened? According to Hagrid you were with Professor Dumbledore when he - when it happened. He says Professor Snape was involved in some -"

"Snape killed Dumbledore," said Harry.

She stared at him for a moment, then swayed alarmingly; Madam Pomfrey, who seemed to have pulled herself together, ran forward, conjuring a chair from thin air, which she pushed under McGonagall.

"Snape," repeated McGonagall faintly, falling into the chair. "We all wondered . . . but he trusted . . . always . . . Snape… I can't believe it. …"

"None of us can believe it, I always thought Dumbledore had some ironclad reason for trusting Snape." stated Tonks morbidly.

"Where is Miss Granger?" asked McGonagall fresh sorrow crossing her face.

Every person in the room gasped, and looked around to gauge the expressions on the well known faces that surrounded them. Nobody had any clue.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley entered the ward just then running to their gruesomely marred child. Fleur trailed slowly behind them misery befouling her beautiful face.

"I've got to go find Hermione. Ron, stay here with your family fill your mum and dad in on what's happened, I can't, I can't talk about this anymore." mumbled Harry thickly.

"I'll come with you Harry." Remus stood ready.

"Last time I saw her she stunned that lumpy... thing death eater and kept running towards the entrance hall." Ginny informed the two, not moving from her brothers side.

With a curt nod to Ginny and a final look at Molly and Fleur's sobbing figures Harry turned and Lupin strode out of the hospital wing behind him.

"Can your nose help us Remus?" asked Harry once they were in the entrance hall.

"I can smell her, my sense of smell isn't as strong during the waning moon though. There are so many smells here I can't exactly pinpoint her trail." Lupin replied with a miserable look.

"She must've been heading outside, why I don't know. It's not like her to run away from a battle." Harry thought aloud.

Lupin agreed and led the way out of the castle using his nose to scope out the many separate paths taken.

"I can smell Snape, and Draco and you. There are a few other people I don't quite recognize, you guys went this way. Hermione's scent is heading the same direction buts it's fainter." the werewolf informed Harry after assessing the area.

Falling into step behind Lupin the two walked across the grounds slowly. Remus stopped and used his heightened senses to assure they were on the correct path every few paces.

"Her path deviates here, you and... Him, go towards the gate, she was headed towards the forest." said Lupin sharing a concerned look with Harry.

"Why would she go to the forest?" Harry wondered completely perplexed.

He had given them the Felix Felicis potion, according to Ron and Ginny it had probably saved their lives. Was Hermione acting under the potions influence? Harry grimly remembered his experience with liquid luck, he hadn't know exactly where he was going, it had just nudged him in the right direction and everything worked itself out.

"Harry, perhaps you ought to head back up to the castle and let me continue on my own." stated Lupin in a tight voice.

"What are you talking about Lupin! Hermione is like a sister to me! I'm not going to stop looking for her. What if she's injured?" screamed Harry angrily, "I'm not a child, stop trying to protect me!"

"I can smell her blood Harry, not a lot of it."

"So she's not badly injured?" inquired Harry hopefully.

"I also smell Greyback." Remus Lupin stated quietly looking down to avoid the hurt in Harry's eyes.

"Greyback would've made a mess of her though, there isn't any blood." said Harry loudly, unwilling to accept his best friends fate.

"Their path leads into the forest."

Harry took the lead this time as there was a clear path to follow. It seemed as though Greyback had picked her up and carried her, only one set of footprints led him into the forest. There was no trace of blood as far as Harry could see but he steeled his emotions anyway, having already seen the after effects of Greyback's teeth on this night.

The path led them well over a mile into the forest and then stopped abruptly.

"Can you smell them?"

"Sorry Harry, he must've apparated away with her."

"Where would he have taken her? To Voldemort?" Harry's face lost all color at that thought.

"But she knows about the... She knows my mission, if Voldemort realizes what she knows he'll kill her and..." Harry broke off, unwilling to involve Lupin in the quest he had accepted.

Luckily Remus was lost in his own thoughts and didn't question Harry about his mission. If Voldemort found out anyone knew about the horcruxes he would almost certainly gather them all. The fact that he apparently couldn't tell when a horcrux was destroyed had been their only advantage in this war.

Upon their reentrance into the hospital ward a scene unraveling. The bad news Harry and Remus had to share was momentarily forgotton.

"You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per'aps, you hoped?" said Fleur, her nostrils flaring. "What do I care how he looks? I am goodlooking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave! And I shall do zat!" she added fiercely, pushing Mrs. Weasley aside and snatching the ointment from her.

Mrs. Weasley fell back against her husband and watched Fleur mopping up Bill's wounds with a most curious expression upon her face. Nobody said anything; Harry did not dare move. Like everybody else, he was waiting for the explosion.

"Our Great Auntie Muriel," said Mrs. Weasley after a long pause, "has a very beautiful tiara - goblinmade - which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding. She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair."

"Thank you," said Fleur stiffly. "I am sure zat will be lovely."

And then, Harry did not quite see how it happened, both, women were crying and hugging each other. Completely bewildered, wondering whether the world had gone mad Harry glanced around in time to catch the expression on Tonks' face before she started speaking.

"You see!" Tonks was glaring at Lupin. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"

"It's different," said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely -"

"But I don't care either, I don't care!" said Tonks, seizing the front of Lupin's robes and shaking them. "I've told you a million times. . . ."

The meaning of Tonks's Patronus and her mousecolored hair, and the reason she had come running to find Dumbledore when she had heard a rumor someone had been attacked by Greyback, all suddenly became clear to Harry; it had not been Sirius that Tonks had fallen in love with after all.

"And I've told you a million times," said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes, staring at the floor, "that I am too old for you, too poor . . . too dangerous. . . ."

"I've said all along you're taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus," said Mrs. Weasley over Fleur's shoulder as she patted her on the back.

"I am not being ridiculous,"said Lupin steadily. "Tonks deserves somebody young and whole."

"But she wants you," said Mr. Weasley, with a small smile. "And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so."

He gestured sadly at his son, lying between them.

"This is… not the moment to discuss it," said Lupin, avoiding everybody's eyes as he looked around distractedly. "Dumbledore is dead. …"

"Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world." said Professor McGonagall curtly, just as the hospital doors opened again and Hagrid walked in.

The little of his face that was not obscured by hair or beard was soaking and swollen; he was shaking with tears, a vast, spotted handkerchief in his hand.

"I've . . . I've done it, Professor," he choked. "M moved him. Professor Sprout's got the kids back in bed. Professor Flitwick's lyin down, but he says he'll be all righ' in a jiffy, an' Professor Slughorn says the Ministry's bin informed."

"Thank you, Hagrid," said Professor McGonagall, standing up at once and turning to look at the group around Bill's bed. "I shall have to see the Ministry when they get here. Hagrid, please tell the Heads of Houses, Slughorn can represent Slytherin, that I want to see them in my office forthwith. I would like you to join us too. Harry did you find Hermione?"

"Er," Harry paused trying to prepare himself to deliver the blow. "Greyback got her. They apparated away from a mile or so into the forest."

Hagrid wailed piteously and Harry found himself squeezed to the giant mans chest. Stiff at first Harry resisted the urge to cry and patted Hagrid's enormous back.

"Not 'Ermione too!" Hagrid managed to say between sobs.

At his words Harry felt the tears burning in his eyes, burying his face into Hagrid's heaving chest he finally allowed himself to cry. He cried for Dumbledore, he cried for Bill but above all he cried for Hermione; his best friend. Neither he nor Ron had ever appreciated her properly and now she was gone.

Pulling himself somewhat together Hagrid left to gather the house heads. Harry stood with his eyes closed for several seconds, when he felt he had control over his tears he looked around the room. Ron was sobbing silently into his mums bosom, Molly had tears streaking down her face as well as she rubbed comforting circles on her youngest sons back. An awkward and tense looking Remus had a crying Tonks attached to his waist while Arthur was tear free but had a disturbed look of sorrow that Harry had never seen on his face before.

At long last he looked to his own head of house, expected her to be composed. Minerva McGonagall had but a single tear upon her cheek but the sorrow in her eyes was deep.

"What would Greyback do with her?" asked Ron looking quizzically at Lupin.

Remus looked as though he would be sick.

"Well, he had a taste of blood," Lupin gestured towards Bill. "Considering how... Well gentle... He was with Bill we should assume that he was under orders not to kill. There's no telling, if he found her alone he likely ate her. If he was acting under orders than he would've taken her to Voldemort."

"Than Voldemort will know that we know... He'll kill her." mumbled Ron panic spreading across his face as he put all the pieces together.

"Harry, I'll need you to come along to my office as well. I'm sorry I know you've had a long, horrible day but I have a few questions I must ask you before the ministry shows up." Professor McGonagall said in a voice closer to her normal stern voice.

"I'll see you in the dormitory mate." Ron said sharing a look of grief and panic with his remaining best friend.

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Hermione found herself being roughly shaken awake.

"He's here Hermione, wake up." a female voice hissed in her ear.

Her eyes opened in shock as she remembered where she was, and who HE was. All the panic that had dissipated in the long hours she sat and talked with the kindly were-mothers, came back suddenly. Quelling the urge to vomit she stood not knowing what to expect.

Greyback entered the women's cave at a slow leisurely pace. Hermione recoiled at the sight of him, blood on his chin as he eye'd her up and down.

"Come." he said quietly to Hermione, ignoring the other women.

Hermione froze, the odd feeling that she felt when she saw him coming towards her returned.

"I said come!" snarled the wolf grabbing the back of her neck and a good bit of her wild hair roughly, shoving her into the chamber he had come from.


	3. Chapter 3

AN- So, I cried all through writing the last chapter. :,( Professor Dumbledore's death made me so sad, I've avoided rereading the sixth book for several years. It just seemed like the most, er, canonly realistic possibility of Hermione getting taken by Fenrir. Having to go through those heartbreaking final chapters of HBP was hard for me, now let's see what's going on with Hermione, then, Dumbledore's funeral... :( (I couldn't bring myself to rewrite Dumbledore's funeral. JK did it best so I just changed it enough to acknowledge Hermione's absence, sorry y'all please don't be mad I used so much of JKRs words.)

From here on things will be going quite differently for Harry and Ron, as they would have had Hermione not been at Bill and Fleur's wedding.

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Chapter 3. Calm and Determined

Fenrir Greyback wasn't the largest man but he was much stronger and than Hermione. After a few moments spent struggling in vain Hermione gave up. It was no use, she was no match for the half man, half wolf. Wishing she had thought to pay attention to the path Hermione went limp. To her shock his grip relaxed, his hand still sat firmly on the base of neck but he didn't squeeze.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked courageously as he led her deeper and deeper into the system of caves.

"Somewhere private. We need to, talk." he answered shortly his tone making it clear that he did not want her speaking.

Half an hour later he stopped; with a wave of his wand Greyback opened a hole to the world outside. With a light push Hermione found herself underneath the half moon with the wolf behind her.

There was a deep pool of fresh water in front of them surrounded by lush trees and all kinds of berry bushes. Hermione found herself shocked again as Greyback let go of her entirely and sat down upon a rock near the shore.

"I'm a lot faster than you are girl, I'd rather not spend the night chasing you." he snarled.

"Just kill me then!" she snarled back bitterly.

"I cannot do that. Tell me your name."

"No!" hissed Hermione.

In a flash she found her arms pinned to her side, the wolfs foul breath in her face.

"Tell me your damn name little girl!" he said in a deadly soft voice against her ear.

"Hermione." she stuttered fear breaking her resolve.

"Potters friend? The mudblood?"

"Yes."

"Fuck."

"What does it matter? Surely Voldemort will be pleased with you. If you kill me yourself he'll likely reward you." she said desperately hoping he would be that easily manipulated.

She could not allow herself to be sent to Voldemort, if he had the slightest idea they knew about his horcruxes Harry's chance of success would drop to zero.

"You don't understand girl." Greyback hissed.

"What's to bloody understand? I didn't run from you because of some stupid potion, you kiss me, bring here, and have your way with my fucking virginity! What more could you possibly do to me? You foul mutt! Complete whatever task your master set you to like a good boy!" Hermione screamed, tears flowing down her face again. "If you won't kill me I'll kill myself I won't allow you to take me to him."

"Hermione, you don't understand what's happened." his tone softened oddly when he said her name.

Kneeling slowly Hermione sat herself upon the damp black soil she hugged her robe around herself securely trying to keep herself from sobbing outright. What had she been thinking earlier, surviving? Escaping? Concerned only for her survival; not thinking of the consequences. She needed to die she couldn't take any chances. Voldemort simply could not see what was in her mind.

Fenrir stood and stretched, his back popping stirred Hermione from her morbid thoughts. She looked up and watched him remove his trousers before diving gracefully into the pool of water.

The thought occurred to her that she should just run, if she could get a decent head start she might be able to hide herself. Maybe if she made him angry enough he would lose control and kill her, he was a beast after all.

"The water is warm. I suggest you bathe now, I may be gone for several days after tonight and I will not force any member of my pack to put themselves at risk bringing you out here."

Hermione ignored him looking carefully at the ground in front of her.

"I will force you if I need to, my smell coming from you is quite pleasing to me, but it will become foul soon if you don't clean yourself."

Shuddering inwardly at the thought of his seed rotting inside of her Hermione blatantly ignored him, continuing to exam the dirt and thinking of her options.

Running around the forest playing hunter and hunted would likely excite him. She didn't want to play she just wanted to be killed without betraying her friends or the order. Accepting her own death was surprisingly easy for her once she considered the consequences. Maybe this is why she was put into Gryffindor, she had always wondered. It wasn't bravery; it was loyalty.

Albus Dumbledore had been an intelligent, powerful man his death had meant something. Hermione Granger was not nearly intelligent, nor powerful but it both comforted her and steeled her resolve that she was to die for the same cause as such a great man.

A flurry of wetness caused Hermione to forget that she was ignoring the wolf, when she looked up he was walking towards her shaking water off himself like a dog. The water was pleasantly warm causing Hermione to wonder if it came from a hot spring or if it had something to do with the dragons.

It was too late to stand, she looked up to a face full of floppy wiener and scraggily black hair. Greyback laughed at her as she simultaneously attempted to scoot backwards and stand resulting in an awkward scuffle that ended with her on all fours. When she finally stood and brushed herself off he was smiling at her as though greatly amused.

"Do you require assistance bathing?" he said with a straight face.

"Just... Don't watch me, I'm not some kind of animal for you to gape at." snapped Hermione walking briskly to the edge of the water and staring pointedly over her shoulder until the werewolf looked away.

All she had left was her school robe it was dirty but she didn't want it to get wet as well so she left in the grass before scurrying into the water quickly to cover herself.

The water was divine. All the soreness and tightness that had resulted from lying on the hard cave ground seemed of dissolve immediately. Even the soreness in her very center gained some relief from the warm pool. Taking a deep breath Hermione dropped under the water opening her eyes she marveled at how clean and deep the pool was.

The ground tapered down slowly getting deeper and deeper until it seemed to be bottomless. Hermione assumed it went deep into the earth through some of the many cave systems. When she broke through the surface of the water she found Fenrir by her side.

"What do you intend to do with me?" asked Hermione covering her chest with her arms.

"At the moment I'm just making sure you don't try to drown yourself."

Hermione felt dumb, the thought hadn't occurred to her. It would've been easy to swim deep into the water through the caves into the black.

"Why did you take me from school? Why are you forcing me to bathe instead of killing me? What happened by the forest, those females seemed to know something but they just dodged my questions. Why did you stalk me like you planned to eat me and then stop? Why didn't I run!" confusion made Hermione feel nauseous as she found herself babbling on disjointedly.

None of this made sense, unless he was cleaning her up to take her to Voldemort. Greyback had said he'd be gone for a few days though, insinuating she would be here. What was going on?

"I wish it hadn't happened this way Hermione but we are bonded. When our eyes met my primal instinct took over, you are my mate."

"Bonded, mate? Those words don't mean anything to me. I'm a human, not a werewolf." Or was she? Hermione wondered, he had bitten her.

"We don't choose our mate Hermione, even if you aren't a werewolf everything is predetermined. You are my mate because it was destined you did not run because deep down part of you knows this to be true."

"Am I a werewolf now that you've bitten me?" she asked.

"It's very likely. Even though the moon wasn't full you are destined to become a werewolf and your body will know that, even if your brain cannot accept it. We will know in a couple weeks if you change with moon."

His words sunk into her heart like a knife. Would she become a mindless ferocious beast?

"Are you taking me to Voldemort?"

"No, he does not know you are here. I was the last out so hopefully no one saw what happened."

"If you do not wish to kill me then why did you take me? Why must I stay here? Even if we are bonded as you say I have another year at Hogwarts, I have a family and friends. I've made promises, please take me home." she begged.

"I had planned to send you to Hogwarts next year. I will be busy with the war and Hogwarts will be run by the Dark Lords trusted servants so I had thought you would be safe there. However, you're a mudblood and a friend to the Potter boy making this whole situation all the more difficult."

"What does it mean to be bonded? Is it a ritual how does it work?" she asked relaxing despite herself.

Though she had been ready to take her own life to save her friends the fact he was not taking her straight to Voldemort gave her hope. Perhaps she would survive this ordeal, as a werewolf. Her hope dimmed at the thought; remembering how unhappy Lupin looked most of the time.

"The ritual started as soon as our eyes met. I couldn't keep myself from kissing you, that's the initial bond. Usually when we find someone's mate like this we take it slowly turning them and allowing them to accept and go through the change the fact before the initial bonding takes place." he informed her slowly allowing it to sink in.

"What was different about this situation?"

"I do not know, I felt a strange sense of urgency, I could not think I just reacted. The magic that courses through the bond was too much for your human body when you fainted I panicked and brought you here."

"And raped me!" she looked him directly in the eyes for the first time since they met.

Fenrir Greyback winced at the word rape. He had raped at the Dark Lords command but it was never something he enjoyed. Seeing her mouth form the word cut him deeply. Her light brown eyes shone with her hurt and anger.

"That is the second bonding ritual. I could not, I was driven by instinct Hermione. I had to complete our bond. I hope that in time you will realize this and forgive me for that unforgivable act." the wolf mumbled looking away from her fierce eyes.

Their bond was strong already, he could feel the hurt he had inflicted upon her. Fenrir wondered if she could feel his emotions as well.

"Our lives are bound together now, if I die you will perish and vice versa. You are unable to have children with anybody else, many witches lose several babies before they meet their mate. You have been spared that pain luckily, Dahlia was married for six years and lost five pregnancies before she met Miels."

"How many babies do werewolves have at a time?" Hermione asked, thinking of all the squalling babes she had met earlier.

"Between two and six," he responded, pleased to note that she was more curious than frightened. "Typically the first litter is only one or two but after that it varies."

"Is there anything more I should know about this bond?" she demanded in a bossy voice.

"I can feel your emotions now. Some claim to be able to communicate through the bond in their minds but that's not common. Every bond is different, for instance I feel very calm when I am near you."

Hermione didn't say anything for quite sometime; it was a lot to take in. Not feeling rushed to kill herself was a relief but the fact that if she died Voldemort would lose an able fighter had to be considered now.

She wasn't entirely sure if she believed all the bonding stuff but she admitted she could feel his emotions and the calmness. How could she be so at ease with a beast that had raped her? Her head began to pound it was all too much, taking a deep breath she dove under the water and swam a furious breast stroke to the shore with Fenrir close behind.

He was not yet convinced the girl had changed her mind about killing herself all the emotions coming from her conflicted with one another; Fenrir couldn't make sense of any of it. The overwhelmed feeling overcame him as well when they were out of the water and he did the only thing he could think of.

His mate sobbed quietly in the moonlight, ignoring the lustre of her pale skin in the moonlight he wrapped her robe around her and picked up her heaving form.

Hermione recoiled initially when she found her face pressed into the wolves chest but he tightened his grip and calmness was forced upon her. Her head throbbed painfully, everything seemed to twitch for a moment before going black.

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Harry had never attended a funeral before; there had been no body to bury when Sirius had died. He did not know what to expect and was a little worried about what he might see, about how he would feel. He wondered whether Dumbledore's death would be more real to him once the funeral was over.

Though he had moments when the horrible fact of it threatened to overwhelm him, there were blank stretches of numbness where, despite the fact that nobody was talking about anything else in the whole castle, he still found it difficult to believe that Dumbledore had really gone.

Admittedly he had not, as he had with Sirius, looked desperately for some kind of loophole, some way that Dumbledore would come back, he felt in his pocket for the cold chain of the fake Horcrux, which he now carried with him everywhere, not as a talisman, but as a reminder of what it had cost and what remained still to do.

Harry rose early to pack the next day; the Hogwarts Express would be leaving an hour after the funeral. Downstairs he found the mood in the Great Hall subdued. Everybody was wearing their dress robes and no one seemed very hungry. Professor McGonagall had left the thronelike chair in the middle of the staff table empty.

Hagrid's chair was deserted too: Harry thought that perhaps he had not been able to face breakfast; but Snape's place had been unceremoniously filled by Rufus Scrimgeour. Harry avoided his yellowish eyes as they scanned the Hall; Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that Scrimgeour was looking for him.

Among Scrimgeour's entourage Harry spotted the red hair and glasses of Percy Weasley. Ron gave no sign that he was aware of Percy, apart from stabbing pieces of kipper with unwonted venom.

Over at the Slytherin table Crabbe and Goyle were muttering together. Hulking boys though they were, they looked oddly lonely without the tall, pale figure of Malfoy between them, bossing them around. Harry had not spared Malfoy much thought.

His animosity was all for Snape, but he had not forgotten the fear in Malfoy's voice on that tower top, nor the fact that he had lowered his wand before the other Death Eaters arrived. Harry did not believe that Malfoy would have killed Dumbledore. He despised Malfoy still for his infatuation with the Dark Arts, but now the tiniest drop of pity mingled with his dislike. Where, Harry wondered, was Malfoy now, and what was Voldemort making him do under threat of killing him and his parents?

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a nudge in the ribs from Ginny. Professor McGonagall had risen to her feet and the mournful hum in the Hall died away at once.

"It is nearly time," she said. "Please follow your Heads of House out into the grounds. Gryffindors, after me."

Harry glimpsed Slughorn at the head of the Slytherin column, wearing magnificent long emeraldgreen robes embroidered with silver. He had never seen Professor Sprout, Head of the Hufflepuffs, looking so clean; there was not a single patch on her hat, and when they reached the Entrance Hall, they found Madam Pince standing beside Filch, she in a thick black veil that fell to her knees, he in an ancient black suit and tie.

The warmth of the sun caressed his face as they followed Professor McGonagall in silence to the place where hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows. An aisle ran down the centre of them: there was a marble table standing at the front, all chairs facing it. It was the most beautiful summer's day.

An extraordinary assortment of people had already settled into half of the chairs: shabby and smart, old and young. Most Harry did not recognise, but there were a few that he did, including members of the Order of the Phoenix: Kingsley Shacklebolt, MadEye Moody, Tonks, her hair miraculously returned to vividest pink, Remus Lupin, with whom she seemed to be holding hands, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill supported by Fleur and followed by Fred and George, who were wearing jackets of black dragonskin.

Then there was Madame Maxime, who took up twoandahalf chairs on her own, Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, Arabella Figg, Harry's Squib neighbour, the hairy bass player from the wizardmg group the Weird bisters, hrnie Frang, dnver ol the Knight Bus, Madam Malkin, of the robe shop in Diagon Alley, and some people whom Harry merely knew by sight, such as the barman of the Hog's Head and the witch who pushed the trolley on the Hogwarts Express.

The castle ghosts were there too, barely visible in the bright sunlight, discernible only when they moved, shimmering insubstantially in the gleaming air.

Hermione's absence went unnoticed by the masses; Harry and Ron however were mourning two deaths. Her body had yet to be found but with all they had heard of Greyback from Lupin they assumed it was only a matter of time.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny filed into seats at the end of a row beside the lake. People were whispering to each other; it sounded like a breeze in the grass, but the birdsong was louder by far.

The crowd continued to swell; with a great rush of affection for both of them, Harry saw Neville being helped into a seat by Luna. They alone of all the DA had responded to Hermione's summons the night that Dumbledore had died, and Harry knew why: they were the ones who had missed the DA most … probably the ones who had checked their coins regularly in the hope that there would be another meeting.

Cornelius Fudge walked past them towards the front rows, his expression miserable, twirling his green bowler hat as usual; Harry next recognised Rita Skeeter, who, he was infuriated to see, had a notebook clutched in her red-tipped hand; and then, with a worse jolt of fury, Dolores Umbridge, an unconvincing expression of grief upon her toadlike face, a black velvet bow set atop her ironcoloured curls.

At the sight of the centaur Firenze, who was standing like a sentinel near the water's edge, she gave a start and scurried hastily into a seat a good distance away.

The staff were seated at last. Harry could see Scrimgeour looking grave and dignified in the front row with Professor McGonagall. He wondered whether Scrimgeour or any of these important people were really sorry that Dumbledore was dead, he forgot his dislike of the Ministry in looking around for the source of it. He was not the only one: many heads were turning, searching, a little alarmed.

"In there," whispered Ginny in Harry's ear.

And he saw them in the clear green sunlit water, inches below the surface, reminding him horribly of the Inferi; a chorus of merpeople singing in a strange language he did not understand, their pallid faces rippling, their purplish hair flowing all around them.

The music made the hair on Harry's neck stand up and yet it was not unpleasant. It spoke very clearly of loss and of despair. As he looked down into the wild faces of the singers he had the feeling that they, at least, were sorry for Dumbledore's passing. Then Ginny nudged him again and he looked round.

Hagrid was walking slowly up the aisle between the chairs. He was crying quite silently, his face gleaming with tears, and in his arms, wrapped in purple velvet spangled with golden stars, was what Harry knew to be Dumbledore's body.

A sharp pain rose in Harry's throat at this sight: for a moment, the strange music and the knowledge that Dumbledore's body was so close seemed to take all warmth from the day. Ron looked white and shocked. Tears were falling thick and fast into Ginny's lap.

They could not see clearly what was happening at the front. Hagrid seemed to have placed the body carefully upon the table. Now he retreated down the aisle, blowing his nose with loud trumpeting noises that drew scandalised looks from some, including, Harry saw, Dolores Umbridge … but Harry knew that Dumbledore would not have cared.

He tried to make a friendly gesture to Hagrid as he passed, but Hagrid's eyes were so swollen it was a wonder he could see where he was going. Harry glanced at the back row to which Hagrid was heading and realised what was guiding him, for there, dressed in a jacket and trousers each the size of a small marquee, was the giant Grawp, his great ugly boulderlike head bowed, docile, almost human.

Hagrid sat down next to his halfbrother and Grawp palled Hagrid hard on the head, so that his chair legs sank into the ground. Harry had a wonderful momentary urge to laugh. But then the music stopped and he turned to face the front again.

A little tuftyhaired man in plain black robes had got to his feet and stood now in front of Dumbledore's body. Harry could not hear what he was saying. Odd words floated back to them over the hundreds of beads. 'Nobility of spirit' … 'intellectual contribution' … 'greatness of heart' … it did not mean very much.

It had little to do with Dumbledore as Harry had known him. He suddenly remembered Dumbledore's idea of a few words: 'nitwit', 'oddment', 'blubber' and 'tweak', and again, had to suppress a grin … what was the matter with him?

There was a soft splashing noise to his left and he saw that the merpeople had broken the surface to listen, too. He remembered Dumbledore crouching at the water's edge two years ago, very close to where Harry now sat, and conversing in Mermish with the Merchieftainess. Harry wondered where Dumbledore had learned Mermish. There was so much he had never asked him, so much he should have said.

And then, without warning, it swept over him, the dreadful truth, more completely and undeniably than it had until now. Dumbledore was dead, gone … he clutched the cold locket in his hand so tightly that it hurt, but he could not prevent hot tears spilling from his eyes: he looked away from Ginny and the others and stared out over the lake, towards the Forest, as the little man in black droned on … there was movement among the trees.

The centaurs had come to pay their respects, too. They did not move into the open but Harry saw them standing quite still, halfhidden in shadow, watching the wizards, their bows hanging at their sides. Harry remembered his first nightmarish trip into the Forest, the first time he had ever encountered the thing that was then Voldemort, and how he had faced him, and how he and Dumbledore had discussed fighting a losing battle not long thereafter.

It was important, Dumbledore said, to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then could evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated. Harry saw very clearly as be sal there under the hot sun bow people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over.

He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon for ever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one: that the shelter of a parent's arms meant that nothing could hurt him. There was no waking from his nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his proteclors had died and he was more alone than he had ever been before.

The little man in black had stopped speaking at last and resumed his seat. Harry waited for somebody else to get to their feet; he expected speeches, probably from the Minister, but nobody moved.

Then several people screamed. Bright, white flames had erupted around Dumbledore's body and the table upon which it lay: higher and higher they rose, obscuring the body. White smoke spiralled into the air and made strange shapes: Harry thought, for one heartstopping moment, that he saw a phoenix fly joyfully into the blue, but next second the fire had vanished. In its place was a white marble tomb, encasing Dumbledore's body and the table on which he had rested.

There were a few more cries of shock as a shower of arrows soared through the air, but they fell far short of the crowd. It was, Harry knew, the centaurs' tribute: he saw them turn tail and disappear back into the cool trees.

Likewise the merpeople sank slowly back into the green water and were lost from view. Harry looked at Ginny, and Ron; Ron's face was screwed up as though the sunlight was blinding him. Ginny was no longer crying. She met Harry's gaze with the same hard, blazing look that he had seen when she had hugged him after winning the Quidditch Cup in his absence, and he knew that at that moment they understood each other perfectly, and that when he told her what he was going to do now, she would not say 'Be careful', or 'Don't do it', but accept his decision, because she would not have expected anything less of him. And so he steeled himself to say what he had known he must say ever since Dumbledore had died.

"Ginny, listen …" he said very quietly, as the buzz of conversation grew louder around them and people began to get to their feet. "I can't be involved with you any more. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together."

She said, with an oddly twisted smile, "It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?"

'It's been like … like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you," said Harry. "But I can't … we can't … I've got things to do alone now."

She did not cry, she simply looked at him.

"Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you."

"What if I don't care?" said Ginny fiercely.

"I care!" said Harry. "How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral … and it was my fault …"

She looked away from him, over the lake.

"I never really gave up on you," she said. "Not really. I always hoped … Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more - myself."

"Smart girl, that Hermione," said Harry, trying to suppress his tears. "I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages … months … years maybe …"

"But you've been too busy saving the wizarding world," said Ginny, halflaughing. "Well … I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much."

Harry could not bear to hear these things, nor did he think his resolution would hold if he remained sitting beside her. Ron, he was pointedly looking away allowing them a measure of privacy. Tears freely dripping from the end of his own long nose.

With a miserable gesture, Harry got up, turned his back on Ginny and on Dumbledore's tomb and walked away around the lake. Moving felt much more bearable than sitting still: just as setting out as soon as possible to track down the Horcruxes and kill Voldemort would feel better than waiting to do anything.

"Harry!"

He turned. Rufus Scrimgeour was limping rapidly towards him around the bank, leaning on his walking stick.

"I've been hoping to have a word … do you mind if I walk a little way with you?"

"No," said Harry indifferently, and set off again.

"Harry, this was a dreadful tragedy," said Scrimgeour quietly, "I cannot tell you how appalled I was to hear of it. Dumbledore was a very great wizard. We had our disagreements, as you know, but no one knows better than I.."

"What do you want?" asked Harry flatly.

Scrimgeour looked annoyed but, as before, hastily modified his expression to one of sorrowful understanding.

"You are, of course, devastated," he said. "I know that you were very close to Dumbledore. I think you may have been his favourite ever pupil. The bond between the two of you -"

"What do you want?" Harry repeated, coming to a halt.

Scrimgeour stopped too, leaned on his stick and stared at Harry, his expression shrewd now.

"The word is that you were with him when he left the school the night that he died."

"Whose word?" said Harry.

"Somebody Stupefied a Death Eater on top of the Tower after Dumbledore died. There were also two broomsticks up there. The Ministry can add two and two, Harry."

"Glad to hear it," said Harry. "Well, where I went with Dumbledore and what we did is my business. He didn't want people to know."

"Such loyalty is admirable, of course," said Scrimgeour, who seemed to be restraining his irritation with difficulty, "but Dumbledore is gone, Harry. He's gone."

"He will only be gone from the school when none here are loyal to him," said Harry, smiling in spite of himself.

"My dear boy … even Dumbledore cannot return from the-"

"I am not saying he can. You wouldn't understand. But I've got nothing to tell you."

Scrimgeour hesitated, then said, in what was evidently supposed to be a tone of delicacy, "The Ministry can offer you all sorts of protection, you know, Harry. I would be delighted to place a couple of my Aurors at your service."

Harry laughed.

"Voldemort wants to kill me himself and Aurors won't stop him. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks."

"So," said Scrimgeour, his voice cold now, "the request I made of you at Christmas."

"What request? Oh yeah … the one where I tell the world what a great job you're doing in exchange for.."

"For raising everyone's morale!" snapped Scrimgeour.

Harry considered him for a moment.

"Released Stan Shunpike yet?"

Scrimgeour turned a nasty purple colour highly reminiscent of Uncle Vernon.

"I see you are -"

"Dumbledore's man through and through," said Harry. "That's right."

Scrimgeour glared at him for another moment, then turned and limped away without another word. Harry could see Percy and the rest of the Ministry delegation waiting for him, casting nervous glances at the sobbing Hagrid and Grawp, who were still in their seats.

Ron and Ginny were hurrying towards Harry, passing Scrimgeour going in the opposite direction; Harry turned and walked slowly on, waiting for them to catch up, which they finally did in the shade of a beech tree under which he, Ron, and Hermione had sat in happier times.

"What did Scrimgeour want?" Ginny whispered.

"Same as he wanted at Christmas," shrugged Harry. "Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry's new poster boy."

Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to his sister, "Look, just let me go back and hit Percy!"

"No!" she said firmly, grabbing his arm. "Mum would never forgive if you made a scene.

"It'll make me feel better!"

Harry laughed.

"I can't bear the idea that we might never come back." Ginny said softly. "How can Hogwarts close?"

"Maybe it won't," said Ron. "We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we? Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer, there are more wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon, Harry?"

"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen," said Harry.

Ron gaped at him, but Ginny said sadly, 'I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do?"

"I'm going back to the Dursleys' once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to," said Harry. "But it'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good."

"But where will you go if you don't come back to school?"

"I thought I might go back to Godric's Hollow," Harry muttered. He had had the idea in his head ever since the night of Dumbledore's death. "For me, it started there, all of it. I've just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents' graves, I'd like that."

"And then what?" said Ron.

Harry gave Ginny a very sad but meaningful look and waited for her to walk away before answering.

"Then I've got to track down the rest of the Horcruxes, haven't I?" said Harry, his eyes upon Dumbledore's white tomb, reflected in the water on the other side of the lake.

"That's what he wanted me to do, that's why he told me all about them. If Dumbledore was right, and I'm sure he was, there are still four of them out there. I've got to find them and destroy them and then I've got to go after the seventh bit of Voldemort's soul, the bit that's still in his body, and I'm the one who's going to kill him. And if I run into Severus Snape or Fenrir Greyback along the way," he added, "so much the better for me, and much the worse for them."

There was a long silence. The crowd had almost dispersed now, the stragglers giving the monumental figure of Grawp a wide berth as he cuddled Hagrid, whose howls of grief were still echoing across the water.

"I'll be there, Harry," said Ron.

"What?"

"At your aunt and uncle's house," said Ron. 'And then I'll go with you, wherever you're going. I call dibs on Greyback though." he added with a hard look.

"No!" said Harry quickly; he had not counted on this, he had meant for him to understand that he was undertaking this most dangerous journey alone.

"I'm with you whatever happens," said Ron. "But, mate, you're going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow."

"Why?"

"Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?"

Harry looked at him, startled; the idea that anything as normal as a wedding could still exist seemed incredible and yet wonderful.

"Yeah, we shouldn't miss that," he said finally.

His hand closed automatically around the fake Horcrux, but in spite of everything, in spite of the dark and twisting path he saw stretching ahead for himself, in spite of the final meeting with Voldemort he knew must come, whether in a month, in a year, or in ten, he felt his heart lift at the thought that there was still one last golden day of peace left to enjoy with his remaining best friend.


	4. Selenaphobia

AN- Thanks to all followers and reviewers! I haven't had this many readers since Moste Horrible. Unfortunately FF deleted the story, which was really lame. The first chapter contained rape but the rest of the story was about Harry and his life as a Slytherin(in this AU James wasn't Harry's father.)

Anyways thanks again.

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Chapter 4. Selenophobia

Hermione awoke once that night, Fenrir Greyback sprawled atop her; snoring loudly and drooling on her abdomen. The next time she woke up she was alone. Somebody had dressed her; a pale orange teeshirt with an old faded brown skirt over a pair of decently fitting pair of underwear. While they definitely were not her own she was pleased to have clean underwear.

Fenrir was nowhere to be seen, Hermione groggily eyeballed the cavern she had woken in this time. Whoever had dressed her had left a candle burning by the exit and a pair of slippers and socks on the bed next to her. There was one dark black robe, a deatheater robe, it was folded neatly inside a small cubby hole carved into the limestone along with a couple pairs of trousers.

A small chain looped out from underneath the small pile of clothes; rusted over it hung limply it's shadow swaying in the flickering light. There was another smaller hole carved above the large cubby hole it's contents were were beyond her vision. Hermione Granger was alone in a werewolves personal space.

Sudden recollection of the night before made her shudder violently, he had said they bonded, they were bound. . . Quite suddenly she felt as though she might faint. A deatheater, a murderer known for his bloodlust believed she was his mate.

Lupin had told Harry exactly how vicious Greyback was. Remus had only just turned four when he was attacked in his own bed. The attack was brutal, Hermione had seen the scars on the weary professor, and now she knew that Greyback not only attacked him and turned him into a werewolf but had also stolen him from his parents and brought him here

Now the beast was doing the same thing to her.

Stealing her from her mum and dad and leaving Harry and Ron alone in whatever morbid plan Dumbledore had in mind to defeat the dark lord.

Hermione had been keeping notes of everything she needed to gather for the quest she was sure Harry had been about to undertake. If they went through her things they might stand a chance.

She had spent hours laboriously detailing the things they need to keep on-hand should they forced to take an extended trip, and charms of protection they could use to become untraceable. Just two nights before all of this had happened she had written out her intention to wipe her parents memories and send them to Australia.

Ginny or Ron would think to go through her stuff. Someone had to find her plans and protect her parents! For the first time Hermione found herself wishing she was able to communicate telepathically. As a child she had read many science fiction novels, the idea of a person being able to speak directly into her mind had always freaked her out.

Hermione laughed aloud, sounding insane even to herself, she had such silly fears as a child. She had faced more than her fair share of unpleasantness since joining the wizarding world, her childhood fears paled in comparison to the events of the last few days. Now Hermione had a muxh greater fear than any she had before;

Being a werewolf. . . When the full moon hit she would become a mindless beast, trapped in an underground maze with countless other mindless beasts.

Unbidden a memory from third year encroached her mind. Their first lesson with Remus Lupin, she had, of course, read all about boggarts but the professor had stepped in before Harry could face the creature and finished it off before Hermione had gotten a whack at it.

Hermione had been quite disappointed but had still taken note of the glowing orb that had appeared their new professor, though it wasn't until much later that she realised what it was; the moon. Sympathy and understanding blossomed in her chest turning quickly to panic.

The moon, completely beyond her control, would ripen and she would transform.

Laying down again Hermione closed her eyes. It was too much to take in, far too much. It felt as though a massive weight was crushing her, barely able to breath she squeezed her eyes tight until she could see naught but black and with a measure of frenzied determination she forced her lungs to accept air.

After several moments of panicked hyperventilating Hermione went numb. All physical pain and emotional turmoil was shoved deep inside of her and locked away; a resigned feeling taking their place, it settled within her the relief of the sudden dissociation put her directly to sleep the way a bit of chamomile does a distraught babe.

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An entire week had passed, but Hermione had no way of knowing such things. Fenrir had been gone for five days at least, none of the other werewolves would tell her where he was, or when he would be back, but they treated her well enough.

Josephine had become a quick friend to the scared girl and everyday she was taken along to harvest mushrooms and whatever else was ripe from the dens year round garden. Hermione enjoyed tending the plants with the other females. She had never much cared for gardening in Herbology but it became much more enjoyable when it was the single thing one had to look forward to.

Nobody really treated her badly, the females were polite and kind, always willing to offer advice and share stories of their own bondings. The males were polite as well but not as friendly, for the most part they averted their eyes when she was around.

Hermione was becoming accustomed to the closeness of the pack very slowly. At Hogwarts she had found Ron and Harry and made a comfortable niche for herself, here everyone seemed to be familiar with everyone, except her.

Meals were eaten all together in one of the larger caverns that adjoined the kitchen. Besides the garden it the largest cave she had seen its ceiling over ten feet above most. There were several roaring fires some with spits over them and some with racks. Dozens of enormous pots and pans were stacked on carved shelving along one wall along the other wall three doors hinted at ovens, carved straight into the limestone.

The woman in charge of the kitchen was short and wide with a thick Russian accent and short red hair, Hermione introduced herself and learned the cooks name, Faina, before being rushed out of the kitchen with orders to fetch some tarragon.

"Faina doesn't trust just anyone to fetch her tarragon, you must've made a good impression. She must be making omelettes tomorrow morning! Have you had them yet, no we haven't had eggs in a few months have we? You are in for a treat my dear!" smiled Josephine.

The moonlight slanted down across the light haired women's hair, illuminating all the silvery grey streaks that marked her age. This made the women glow somehow, like a radiant mother to be. Perhaps she was pregnant; judging by the amount of young Hermione assumed werewolves reproduced quite regularly.

"Faina seems nice, a bit uptight maybe but there's a lot of mouths to feed. Does anyone else cook?"

"Oh no! Faina is very particular about who is in her kitchen, she had a helper named Alex but she died with her mate many years ago."

Hermione remained silent as she knelt and carefully selected leaves of tarragon until she had a decent bundle. Standing and looking down the long rows of herbs she spotted the dill and began to walk towards it carefully.

"Hermione. ." Josephine placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder, " I know you're a little overwhelmed by all this, there are some somewhat daunting aspects to being bonded but it should be celebrated dearie, you're lucky to have found your mate so young, as was I."

With a small smile Hermione nodded at the kindly women and continued her on her path to the dill.

Josephine's mate was an ancient wolf named Samuel, he was thirty-nine years her senior and they had met when she was only a child. They had been close her entire life and once she was grown they had married and started having children immediately.

She loved her husband, but Josephine's husband wasn't a murderer or a death eater.

Hermione gathered dill with as much scrutiny as she had the tarragon. For no particular reason she found herself anxious to impress the chef.

Satisfied with the quality and quanity of the dill she gathered Hermione stood, with a polite nod to Josephine and a small smile to the other women spread about the garden Hermione walked out of the garden and through the winding cave-ways that led to the kitchen.

It was hard to feel like a prisoner with so much freedom; In Fenrir's bedroom she had privacy, without him here nobody except herself went past the entrance. Hermione could go where she wanted, with the obvious exception of outside, then she was accompanied by Dahlia or Josephine.

After a few days of helpless wandering she had figured out the twisting passages enough to get by without constant escort. Magically burning green torches were placed at random intervals down important paths. Paths deemed unsafe had bright red burning torches and ropes blocking them off.

There weren't many paths like that but Hermione was quite glad they were marked.

"Here you are ma'am, I brought you some dill too." said Hermione announcing her entrance to the cook.

"Please call me Faina." she responded turning to examine the herbs Hermione had brought.

"Thank you dushka! How did you know I vould be needing dill?" Faina inquired.

"My mum used to cook with me every weekend. . She always claimed Russia had the best egg recipes." Hermione trailed off at the end, tears burned in her eyes that threatened to overflow.

Faina, sensing Hermione's anguish didn't ask any further questions about her family. Instead the chef remained silent, pulling a step stool from behind a counter and stepping up to hang the fresh tarragon and dill on the hooks above the pots and pans, allowing Hermione some measure of privacy while she pulled herself together.

"I, I uh, should be going." muttered Hermione feeling quite awkward.

"Thank you again dushka. I could use a good pair of hands here, if you are comfortable in kitchen? I start first meal at four pm."

"I would love to but, well to be honest; I have no idea what time it is. I don't even know how long I've been here, or when the full moon comes. . ."

"The Alpha should not have left you alone before you were used to our schedule!" the red haired women said angrily, squinting at a tiny watch on her wrist. "Is four am now. I need my vatch, you ask Josephine if she has an extra."

"Thank you ma'am, sorry.. Faina, I'll see you at four."

"Full moon starts in ten days." added Faina.

Hermione gulped too loudly and gave an awkward wave before exiting the kitchen.

Ten day until she knew. Her throat constricted, as she considered all the possibilities. It was most likely she would transform into a werewolf; Greyback had seemed sure that it would happen and though she didn't feel any different Hermione was almost sure she was infected with lycanthropy.

The fact remained though, the moon was not full the night she was taken. If she did not transform she found herself in much more dangerous situation; the only human among a full den of werewolves.

She wasn't sure which of these possibilities she prefered.

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"I'm telling you it's not right mate! We can't just take their memories of her."

"Ron, it's what she wanted! You read it yourself her parents are to be oblivated and moved to another country for protection. I know it's not easy. Do you think I want to do this? We have to, if for no other reason than to fulfil Hermione's wishes and see her parents to safety. It's the least we can do, think of all she's done for us over the years." insisted Harry vehemently.

"Harry's right Ronald dear, it may be better than to spare them the pain, she was so young. . ." Mrs. Weasley broke off into sobs.

"Why are we all assuming she's dead? I know for a fact that if any of us disappeared Hermione wouldn't give up on us so easily." Ron said loudly, his ears turning a particularly violent shade of red.

When no one responded Ron glared furiously at each of them in turn before stomping out of The Burrow.

Harry, Ginny and Arthur watched out the window as he crossed the protective barrier around the property and continued walking towards the nearby town.

"Where 'as Ron gone? 'e knows I need to measure 'im for 'is wedding robes, ze wedding is een a month, my grandmuzzer is sewing zees robes by 'and!" Fleur said in her bossy voice walking through the kitchen door.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon Fleur, this has all been rough on him. He'll come around, he knows how important this wedding is to all of us. He just needs a minute" Arthur said in response before his wife could overreact.

"Let's go talk to Hermione's mum and dad Mr. Weasley." said Harry firmly.

"Don't you think we ought to wait until Ron returns?" interrupted Ginny.

"Ron is upset. . . He's not thinking clearly right now but he did raise a legitimate point, her body hasn't been found, we don't know what's going on yet and her parents could definitely be a target, especially if they're trying to force information from Hermione. I don't want to endanger anyone I don't have to. You have to stay here, if I could perform memory charms myself I wouldn't even ask your father to come." Harry said with a small frown.

"You're not an adult yet either Harry, Arthur and I should sort this out. We can bring the Grangers here, there's room in Arthur's shed for a nice sized bed." mused Molly.

"No! Hermione wrote her plans out clearly, they're to have their memories wiped and be relocated to Australia."

"Maybe you should take a walk too, clear your head a bit." suggested Mrs. Weasley.

"Respectfully Mrs. Weasley; I can't put this off, Mr. and Mrs. Granger are probably worried sick. As far as you taking care of it goes, I can't let you take that risk, where would this family be without you? Ron needs you the most right now, he. . . Er. . He has some unresolved feelings going on. I don't know how to help him. I've told him so many times this year to just talk to her. . ."

Fresh tears streaked down the dumpy witches face as she hugged the boy who was not her son.

"I did wonder if he. . . I never asked. . . Oh my poor little Ronnie!" she said mopping her eyes with a handkerchief her husband had pressed into her hand.

"Let's go Harry, hopefully we'll be back by supper Molly. . . Tell Ron we've gone. . . I think he'll realise it's the right thing to do." Arthur leaned down and kissed his wife's forehead before leading the raven haired boy out the front door.

"Do you happen to know where the Grangers live Mr. Weasley?" asked Harry sheepishly.

"Yeah, they've had Molly and I over for dinner a couple of times over the years. The Grangers live in a nice London flat near their office. We always apparate to the train station bathroom and then walk the block to their place. You don't have your apparition license yet do you? Darn, Do focus on the train station if you can, I've never been great at side-alongs." Arthur said, grabbing Harry's arm.

Harry felt guilt swell in the back of his throat like sour bile, all of these years he had never once asked Hermione where she lived. With a shaky breath he forced himself to focus as best he could. He didn't know where the train station was but he hoped his determination and deliberation would suffice.

The trip, thanfully, was uneventful. Arthur and Harry received odd looks indeed when they exited a rundown out of order bathroom stall together but they were too focused on their goal to take notice of the snickers as they exited the restroom. After a brisk ten minute walk they were outside the Granger's house.

"Shouldn't you cast some sort of detection spell?" Harry said quietly after several moments of standing outside their house.

"Probably. . ." answered Arthur distractedly.

The aging orange haired patriarch shook his head softly before slipping his wand into his hand. Harry kept a look out up and down the street as Arthur walked around the house softly murmuring incantations and waving his wand about purposely.

Upon Arthur's signal Harry rejoined him on the Granger's stoop neither were ready to knock they stalled for a moment more.

"Everything's clear?" asked Harry, knowing that had it not been Mr. Weasley would've informed him already.

"Yup, barely any traces of magic here. Perfectly normal for a muggle home with a witch in the family. I suppose we should. . Let's just get this over with then." Arthur knocked loudly on the wooden door before he could change his mind.

"Arthur? Harry? Oh no!" Jean Granger fainted, crumpling to the floor.

"Oh dear, Jean, Jean dear!" John Granger approached, nodding for them to enter while he easily lifted his wife and walked into the living room.

"Jean has been nervous all week, we haven't gotten an owl Hermione in nine days. Where is she?"

"Erm, she. . ."

"She's been kidnapped John." Arthur said cutting Harry's attempted deceit.

"What! How could this even happen, I thought this school of Dumbledore's was supposed to be safe? What do we have to do to get her back? I can trade my savings for wizard currency, what's the situation here?" Mr. Granger covered his face with one hand, his other hand tightly clung to his still unconscious wife.

"Well, it's not so simple as a ransom John. . ." Arthur started.


	5. Stalemate

AN- Can anyone guess who Faina is based on? In my imagination she looks just like this peron; from a popular tv show. . . On Netflix...

AN-2- READ ME! Thank you so much to everyone that's followed this story and favourited it! I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting so long. I was pregnant and for some reason the muse just completely left me :-/ now my son (Roronoa Patrick(Roar-oh-Noah) is almost two months old and I finally feel like writing again! This chapter is only half as long as it was meant to be I'm sorry! Pt two to be posted soon!

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Chapter Five

Stalemate; Part 1

"Money is of no object to the wizard we're dealing with..." started Arthur, slowly unsheathing his wand.

"Oblivate!" shouted Arthur at the most opportune second, just as Mrs. Granger opened her eyes and Mr. Granger was too nonplussed to react he wiped their memories.

"Blimey, that escalated quickly." Arthur said, looking completely beside himself.

The spell had been exceedingly powerful, probably because Arthur had panicked; Mr. and Mrs. Granger were completely knocked out and drooling.

"We need to act quickly, I'd like to have everything set up before they wake up. Check Mr. Granger's pockets for a wallet, I'll need his bank card and I want you to modify the names on their ID's. Er. . .Hermione had several possible names written down, use the names Wendall and Monika Wilkins."

Arthur took a deep breath, looking rather uncomfortable he patted the pockets of his friends muggle attire looking for the square leather pouch he had seen John pull out several times. Harry meanwhile felt much less awkward as he pawed through their drawers for their passports.

In Harry's mind this couldn't be too personal, it wasn't that he didn't care about the Granger's it was more that he knew how important this was to his female bestfriend, and therefore felt the need to be as careful and meticulous as Hermione would be.

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Five days until the full moon.

Five days; then Hermione would know her fate.

As she lie alone in the Alpha's bed, unable to sleep the number seemed to pace and forth across her mind. Keeping her awake.

Though she kept herself busy in the kitchen with Faina and in the gardens with Josephine her brain was keeping constant countdown. It successfully kept her from becoming relaxed though she was comfortable enough to know she was in no physical danger.

At least until the Alpha returned.

Calling him Alpha had become a sort of a coping device for the young wandless witch. With the way the pack seemed to revere him so long as she didn't picture his face she could quell the fear she felt when she thought of his imminent return.

When he did return she would find another way to cope. She didn't know what else to do. Without her wand she felt completely helpless and if she was being honest with herself she had no desire to harm any of the pack members she had met.

Hermione hadn't ever held bias against werewolves, she had naturally been frightened when she had discovered Lupins big secret in third year. Once she had calmed down enough to think it through she realized he was safe, he had been there half a year by the time she fit all the pieces together and no one had been hurt, or even in danger.

Until Professor Snape neglected to give him his Wolfsbane Potion. . . Witnessing Professor Lupins transformation was possibly one of the most horrifying memories Hermione had, she'd had nightmares about in several occasions,

In just five more days Hermione would once again experience the terror firsthand, on a much larger scale. Even if by some miracle she didn't go through the transformation all the friendly werepeople in this pack would become mindless werewolves. She didn't know which she preferred; being a werewolf or being the only human amidst an entire clan of wolves.

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"Your names are Wendall and Monika Wilkins, you have no children and no family aside from each other. You are packed and about to retire to Australia. These cashier cheques contain your life savings you will purchase a small home in Kalgoorlie and find easy part time jobs. Here are your tickets, a taxi will be here in ten minutes to take you to the airport. You don't know either of us, we're just travel agents. Good luck." Harry said, greying not to betray his emotions at the end of his long speech.

He hid it well, nodding at Mr. Weasley and turning to exit. Arthur gave his friends one last long look before following Harry out of their lives.

The pair returned to The Burrow without speaking. Though they didn't yet realize it the experience had deepened their bond. Molly and Arthur shared a significant look when they entered the house, Some unspoken agreement seemed to have been forged the two went to bed murmuring goodnight to the family.

Ron wasn't speaking to anyone, when Harry attempted to talk to him he blatantly ignored him and walked upstairs. Ron would come around in his own time, for now he needed his space. With a resigned sigh Harry headed towards the living room, picking up a hard pillow he flopped down onto the small sofa. Wishing for the first time that it was just an ordinary summer; Dumbledore alive and doing whatever it was he did during the summers, him at the Dursley's anxiously awaiting the next school year.

Harry didn't even know where the Dursleys were, they were safe and that was all he cared to know. Hermione was gone, very likely dead. In the back of his mind, through all the different tragedies that had taken place in the last couple weeks Harry was still focused on his most important task. The Horcruxes. He had to destroy them no matter what.


End file.
